This Will End
by spacemonkey766
Summary: "No, I am not afraid to die. It's every breath that comes before. Heartache, I've heard, is part of life and I have broken more and more." With the impending future of Iris' death, Joe fears Barry will take extreme measures to stop anyone from using the one's he loves to punish him ever again. [trigger warning. takes place during 3x18]


**This Will End**

 **summary:** "No, I am not afraid to die. It's every breath that comes before. Heartache, I've heard, is part of life and I have broken more and more." With the impending future of Iris' death, Joe fears Barry will take extreme measures to stop anyone from using the one's he loves to punish him ever again. [trigger warning. takes place during 3x18]

 **genre:** Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Family, Drama

 **rated:** M

 **authors note:** [Trigger Warning] Contains mentions of self harm and talk of suicide. As someone who has battled depression for most of their life, I think its important to to understand the difference between self-harm and the desire to die. They don't always come hand in hand, sometimes you feel one and not the other, or sometimes both or sometimes neither. It's not always about whats happening around you, a lot of the time its the battle waging inside.

I wanted to explore the dichotomy, of Barry dealing with depression as a teen and the idea that even though we can prevail and work through our scars as we heal, sometimes the idea of the world being better without us still enters the mind. Healing is not linear. Every day is a struggle, and every day we have a choice.

Title inspiration and lyrics are from "This Will End" by The Oh Hellos.

* * *

 _No, I am not afraid to die_

 _It's every breath that comes before_

 _Heartache, I've heard, is part of life_

 _And I have broken more and more_

 _But I can hope how this will end_

 _With every line a comedy_

 _That we could learn to love without demand_

 _But unreserved honesty_

* * *

If you had asked Joe years ago, he never imagined himself being a father of three. When Iris was born, Joe realized his life really began on that day. Even after Francine left their lives when Iris was only 6, Joe and Iris were able to find happiness in their family of two. Then the universe brought a heartbroken and traumatized young boy into their lives when his daughter was ten and Joe quickly came to realize that their house was now a home with this family of three. Barry became his son, like a puzzle piece no one could have expected that somehow fit perfectly into the West equation.

Then almost 15 years later, Wally came into their lives and Joe realized his family was now complete. Three beautiful children, two biological and one of the heart, all coming into his life at different times in different ways, completing Joe so fully that although it was never his plan, he couldn't picture his life any other way. Despite their struggles and obstacles individually, each with their own heartache of losing their mothers, of super speed and tragedy, this was Joe's life and he was thankful for his children.

But with such a capacity for love, when his kids were in pain or in danger, Joe felt it deeper than at times he could handle. The biggest example of that right now, for everyone, was the impending threat of Iris' death in the near future. It was slowly tearing at his heart, slowly chipping away at Iris' optimism, and slowly suffocating Barry. The only man whose love rivaled Joe West's for Iris was Barry Allen. Joe knew that Barry would do anything he had to in order to save Iris, and as much comfort as that brought Joe for Iris' safety, it also increased Joe's worry for Barry.

And right now Joe was a man on a mission. After their discussion with Kadabra, the newest member of the Flash's growing Rouges gallery, Iris and Barry had headed back to their childhood home. Joe had followed shortly after only to find Iris on her way out to take care of a few things at Central City Picture News and Barry heading up to his old room, declaring he needed to space to think.

Joe had busied himself with cleaning the kitchen, laundry, making a pot of coffee, anything to keep his mind off Kadabra's taunting of knowing Savitar's identity. As he replayed the conversation in his head over and over, something stole his attention that he didn't notice before. Not in the chat with their villian, but a look in Barry's eyes during their brief exchange before he had headed up to his room. Joe's thoughts caused him to stop everything he was doing and go and find his adopted son.

The door to Barry's room was closed, and Joe knocked hesitantly. He didn't receive an answer but Joe cautiously opened the door anyway.

"Barr?" he called out quietly as he eased it open. He instantly spotted Barry sitting on his old bed, one leg was folded beneath him while the other leg dangled over the bed, something clutched between his hands.

Barry looked up when he heard Joe enter but barely acknowledged his presence as he just looked back down at the item in his hands. As he approached the bed, Joe saw that what Barry held was a framed photo from the family vacation to Florida Joe had taken Barry and Iris on when they were thirteen. He said nothing as he sat down beside his son. Joe kept his eyes on Barry until the young man sighed, putting the photo frame on his bedside nightstand where it had rest upon next to the framed photo of Barry and his mother taken before her death.

"It took me a long time to put any photos up in my room that weren't of my mother or father," Barry spoke, finally tearing his eyes away from the photo to look around the room. "I was always afraid that I was somehow wrong by feeling like I was moving on with a new family, like it was wrong that I felt happy again with you and Iris."

"It's hard to move forward when you're battling fear and sadness," Joe answered, not tearing his gaze away from his son.

"Yeah," Barry said, looking down at his feet. "Yeah."

After that, they sat in a silence for a few more minutes before Joe finally broke the silence.

"Barry, I have to be honest with you," Joe said, gathering strength in his voice. "I am battling both those things right now."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to Iris, Joe," Barry said, voice steady and strong as he quickly looked to Joe. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

"I know you will," Joe nodded. "But at what cost?"

"Joe, Iris already talked me out of letting Kadabra go," Barry said, scratching the back of his neck, looking away.

"Barry, that's not what I meant. I know you'd do anything, _anything_ to save Iris. But I'm afraid what that anything could mean for you. I saw that look in your eye earlier, Barr. I realized where I'd see that look before; that desperate look to make the pain stop."

Barry looked up at Joe then, confusion on his face before realization hit. Barry closed his eyes and sighed.

"Joe…"

"You were sixteen. I remember getting tired with the fact that your room had been a disaster pit for weeks so I got fed up and started cleaning and found a loose razor blade in your drawer, wrapped in a handkerchief stained in blood. I was so scared. I remember racking my brain on how I was gonna approach it, that I should wait to talk to you but was terrified that if I waited too long it could be too late."

* * *

 _If I am not afraid to die_

 _And you are crouching at my door_

 _And suffering is all there is to gain in life_

 _Then what is all this waiting for?_

 _I can see how this will end_

 _In all its bitter tragedy_

 _I'll give you all I have to spend_

 _And you'll give nothing back to me_

* * *

 **Twelve Years Ago**

* * *

Joe sat stoically in the worn leather arm chair, one arm with its elbow propped up on the armrest, it's clenched fist supporting his chin as he breathed deep, eyes focused on the photos on the mantle of his family. The other hand lay in his lap, clenching the razor blade, wrapped in the dry-blood stained handkerchief he'd found in Barry's sock drawer. He was trying so hard to identify what he was feeling; shock, anger, disappointment, confusion, fear. He was hurt that Barry didn't come to him for help, he felt guilty for not realizing how much Barry was suffering, but more than that he was terrified he was going to lose the boy he'd come to love as a son.

The overwhelming and swirling range of emotions came to a sudden halt as Iris and Barry walked through the front door, laughing at some story Iris had just recounted from earlier today. They both greeted Joe, smiling until they noticed the look on his face. Iris' face became a mask of confusion, promptly asking her father what was wrong as both she and Barry put down their schoolbags and kicked of their shoes.

When Joe stood he saw the realization on Barry's face as the 16 year old recognized what Joe was holding in his hand.

"Joe…" he inhaled, recognition turning to fear.

"Iris," Joe said calmly, looking to his daughter. "Please go up to your room, music on, no eaves dropping."

Iris opened her mouth to protest but she saw the look on her father's face. She turned to Barry whose expression mirrored her father's that this wasn't a conversation either men wanted to have and wished to spare her. Iris gave Barry's hand a reassuring squeeze before jogging up the stairs. Both Joe and Barry waited in silence till they heard the door close and the radio begin to play.

Joe looked to Barry, not with anger in his eyes but hurt, causing Barry's plea of ' _I can explain_ ' to stop before it began and changing direction immediately.

"Joe, I'm sorry," Barry said as he moved around the couch to meet Joe in the middle of the living room. Subconsciously, Barry crossed his right arm in front of him and grabbed hold of the left arm at his side. Joe saw the give-away and knew.

The older man placed the handkerchief and blade onto the coffee table held out his hands, palms up, in front of Barry.

"Show me your arm, Barry," he said, voice still calm and quiet, pointing to the left arm. Barry hesitated for a moment, dropping his right arm to the side and holding out his left.

Joe gently grabbed Barry's wrist, sliding the sleeve of the flannel shirt up Barry's thin arm and revealing the pale skin, a single red healing line horizontal on his forearm just below the bend of Barry's arm. He could feel the hand shaking in his, Joe not sure if Barry was the one shaking or if it was himself.

"Joe, I'm sorry," the words spilled quickly out of Barry's mouth as Joe's fingers barely slid across the forming scar. "I only did it the one time. I'm not going to do it again. Please don't be mad at me."

"Mad?" Joe breathed, lifting his eyes to look up incredulously at the teen. "Oh, Barry." He gave a tug on the wrist in his hand, pulling Barry against him as he wrapped his arms around him.

Barry felt a strong but gentle hand suddenly at the back of his neck, holding his head to Joe's shoulder while the other clasped around his back. Barry brought his arms to wrap around Joe's back, fingers digging into Joe's sweater as the man he'd come to love as much as his own father held him. He could feel the dampness of Joe's tear's make contact with his forehead and Barry couldn't stop the sting of his own. Barry pulled away slowly, aware and uncaring that tears were rolling down his cheeks. He could sense Joe was reluctant to ease his embrace, moving his hands to grip Barry's shoulders.

"I'm not mad, Barry," Joe said, voice breaking. "I'm terrified. All I want to do is help you, please don't tell me I'm losing you."

Barry didn't respond immediately, swiping at his cheeks as he looked sadly at his foster father. He didn't know where to start, wasn't sure what to say that could make Joe understand why. He started with what he knew was the most true, what he could do to instantly relieve Joe's anxiety.

"I'm not trying to kill myself, Joe. I don't want to die," he started and saw Joe sigh in relief, the hands squeezing his shoulders. As he continued his explanation, the words came out fast and in teary breaths. "I just, sometimes it's too much. Most days I'm fine, it's just sometimes it's too much. I miss her so much. I miss my family so much. I just wanted something to make the pain go away."

"Why cutting?" Joe asked, moving his hands down Barry's arms to grasp his wrists. "Why hurt yourself?"

He watched Barry take a deep breath, looking past Joe to the coffee table where the handkerchief had uncrumpled a bit and the razor peered between the folds of the fabric.

"I was waiting for my weekly session with the guidance counselor and there was this kid waiting for his session and I saw the scars on his arm. I asked him about it and he said it was the only relief he got," Barry hung his head.

"Did it help," Joe asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

"No," Barry let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "It didn't do anything for me except add physical pain to the list. I regretted it instantly, grabbed my handkerchief to stop the bleeding. And then I was terrified you or Iris would find it if I threw them out so I stuffed them in my dresser and forgot about it."

"Barry, if you're in pain, you can come to me. You can always come to me."

"I know," Barry lifted his teary gaze to meet Joe's. "I didn't want you to think I was unhappy here. I love my life with you and Iris. I'm happy to have you as a…as a dad."

The tears fell freely from Barry's eyes now. Joe gave Barry's wrists a reassuring squeeze, grounding the teen from getting lost in his own emotions. It seemed to work, Barry taking a deep breath in and out, the tears falling silently down his cheeks instead of growing into sobs.

"You taught be how to shave. You're teaching me how to drive, how to talk to girls, helping me with my homework, and just there for everything; every science fair, nightmare, my whole life. And I love having you there but then at the same time I feel guilty for being happy because it should be my father here too and my mom. And I feel like a basket case because who can be happy and heartbroken like this at the same time?" Barry laughed and sobbed at the last words, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as he cried. "I didn't want to burden you with this, I'm sorry."

Joe pulled him in for a hug again, both arms wrapped around the slim body as he held the boy, his son, who had seen so much tragedy at such a young age, who was still struggling.

"Barry, these feelings you're having are okay. It's okay to hurt, it's okay to grieve _and_ be happy. You can be both," Joe spoke softly as he rubbed circles on Barry's back. "But I love you, son. I don't want to lose you and this is dangerous."

"I know," Barry pulled away as his tears slowed. "I promise, I won't do anything like this again."

"You are not a burden. Let me help you bear yours," Joe moved his hands to cup the side of Barry's face. "I am here to love and guide and support you. Let me help you and we'll get you through this together."

Barry nodded at Joe, a ghost of a smile on his face and Joe could see the burden begin to lift off Barry's shoulder. He knew this would be a process, knew that for a long time they would be working on how to help Barry cope with his grief and pain, but Joe was hopeful. If anyone could fight their way out of the darkness it was someone who held a light inside them despite it, like Barry did.

* * *

 _And I will wait for this to end_

 _The back and forth, the battery_

 _For you, at last, to comprehend_

 _The kind of love of which I speak_

* * *

 **Present Day**

* * *

"I thought of all the ways to do it, had a whole big speech planned but when I saw you walk through that door with a smile on your face my terror of the idea that I was losing you was all I could feel," Joe paused to take in a shaky breath. "And then I saw it, one healing scratch about three inches long on the inside of your left forearm. You were crying, desperate to assure me you weren't trying to kill yourself."

"You were crying too," Barry recalled. "I didn't want to die, I was just…suffering. A friend said he would cut to make the pain stop but when I tried it, I don't know, it just wasn't the release I needed."

"I felt so helpless, desperate to help you see that we would get through your pain together," Joe scrubbed at his eyes before reaching out a hand to grasp Barry's knee. "But Barry, that look in your eye, that hollow and lost look I saw today…Barry, tell me you're not thinking what my gut is screaming at me that you are."

"Joe, I-" Barry's voice began to shake, as did his hands folded in his lap.

"Barry," Joe couldn't tear his anxious gaze from Barry, who just continued to stare downwards. "Barry, that isn't the answer."

"Isn't it though?" Barry said quietly, finally lifting his head to look at his father, eyes brimmed with tears.

"Oh, Barr," Joe sighed, swallowing down his own fear.

"Every bad thing that has happened to us, to the people I love, is because someone was trying to punish _me_!" Barry stood abruptly from the bed and started to pace the room. "Thawne killed my mother to get to me. Zoom threatened Wally's life to get what he wanted from me, then _killed_ my father to hurt me. Grodd almost made you shoot yourself in the head because he knew you were important to me, and now Savitar is going to kill Iris to punish _me_ , Joe!"

"Killing yourself is not the answer! It won't stop bad things from happening to us!" Joe shouted, his fear turning into anger, standing from the bed and grabbing Barry by the forearm.

"It stops putting you all in harms way!" Barry yelled back, trying to pull his arm from Joe's grasp but his father wouldn't budge. "I don't want to die to, Joe. But they can't use you guys as leverage against me if I'm dead. If I'm gone, there's nothing left to punish. If I die, you all live! Iris _lives_ , Joe!"

Joe stopped and stared, taken back by the anguish in Barry's voice.

"Barry, do you really think so little of yourself, of how much you mean to us, to me, that it wouldn't kills us to lose you?" Joe's voice was quiet now. "You can't leave us, Barr. You can't put us through that."

"Joe, I'm trying to find other options but I keep coming back to this one. I can't lose her Joe, and neither can you," Barry's voice dropped too, staring into Joe's pleading eyes. "I know you love me, I do. But you can't live without Iris. You can live without me."

Joe sat back onto the bed, no longer having the strength to hold himself up. "You are my son, Barry. I don't want to lose you."

"It doesn't matter. What matters is Iris," Barry sighed. He tried to pull his arm away again but Joe tugged on the arm, forcing his son to sit back beside him on the bed.

"Barry," Joe moved his hands to the sides of Barry's neck, gentle and firm hands forcing his son to look at him, tears rolling freely down the older man's cheeks. "You matter. To me, to Iris, Wally and Cisco and Caitlin. And not because you're the Flash, but because Barry Allen matters. You matter to me, Barry."

Joe would never forget that look in Barry's eyes. He'd seen the young man broken, in agony, lost and afraid. But this level of defeat was rare. In all the darkness he'd seen, in all the battles he'd fought, Barry remained positive in the face of impossible odds every day. In the seventeen years Joe watched Barry grow, very rare were the times Joe couldn't see the light Barry possessed.

Barry opened his mouth to tell Joe that he knew all the things Joe had said, but the words died on his lips because the question wasn't about whether or not Barry was loved. The question was whether or not they'd be willing to allow him to sacrifice himself to save them. But Barry knew the answer before he would even be able to ask the question. He would have to find another way to save Iris.

"Promise me," Joe shook the head his hands, forcing Barry to look him in the eyes. "Promise me you will keep fighting."

Barry stared at Joe.

He wasn't afraid to die. He'd lived with a lot of death and tragedy in his life. The idea of losing Iris was almost to much to wouldn't hesitate to give up his own life for a second; but there was always another way.

"I promise," Barry nodded.

He couldn't hurt them like that. He couldn't bring himself to leave his family behind with the pit in their gut and the void in their heart like he had after losing both of his parents. Barry would find another way, for them.


End file.
